


Secret

by spectrumblack



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-06-23 05:37:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15599463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectrumblack/pseuds/spectrumblack
Summary: It was a day similar to others. With one annoying dark-haired exception.





	1. Chapter 1

"Stop."

Never thought I'd say this to him, but he really was getting on my nerves.

"Just tell me your secret."

Never thought I'd want to wipe this grin off his face.

"There is none."

Never thought he could be so annoying. Or maybe it was me overreacting. But this conversation was going nowhere and obviously he didn't think the same. Obviously.

It was an ordinary day, an ordinary training session, except he has been asking this infuriating quation for ten minutes in a row. Out of the blue. My time on the ice is closer to the end now so my plan is to escape as soon as possible. 

"Don't get mad, I just want to know."

I want to know too. How is it that you are always above everyone and everything, Yuzuru Hanyu? What was your secret of becoming a legend? How are your jumps so fascinating that it hurts? How can you tell exactly the words that people want to hear and praise? How are you so noble and humble? Why am I the one being constantly accused of my skating, my appearance, my words, but you are shining? How does your skin glow from inside?

Well, now I was getting mad. And confused. Again. He'd better continue to ignore me like past few months. Why did he suddenly choose to torture me?

"Then stop, there is no secret. I try to work hard, that's all."

Now was the time to go. I turned toward the exit and skated. Fast. But he never gives up easily, it's just not him. What's gotten into him today? 

"But I also work hard, but I can't be as consistent as you." His tone was slightly more serious now. 

"Maybe because my technic is easier and not so perfect? You can see tons of evidence on YouTube, they can tell you everything you want to know." I know my words sounded bitter, but oh well. But his beautiful - no stop it - smile was gone and he frowned a little. I started to untye my skates. He sat next to me. 

"Why did you watch this?"

"Well these videos are no secret, feel free to watch." 

I bent my head so he couldn't see my face. What was going on? Having haters or critics was the reality of my life, but I didn't let them rule it. And I was over with last season. It was him not wanting to know me since Olympics and now goofing around asking stupid questions what irritated me. No, it made me mad. And hurt. I understood why he did it back in May as if I didn't have enough. I knew Japan was crazy about him and after Olympics my reputation was questionable. I knew it was for good reasons. I knew we were friends. But now - not so much. 

"Zhenya, don't pay them any attention. I know how many you do to gain what you have." He looked at me differently and quickly added. "And don't use Olympics to punish yourself or belittle yourself." He was putting on his trainers now avoiding looking me in the eye.

Did my little outburst cool him? Well, maybe it's better this way. Or not. There was this feeling. Itchy, terrifying feeling. Like I didn't know him anymore. 

"Now I want to change the image of me, so maybe I will not possess my stability anymore. Maybe the secret too." 

I packed my staff and was ready to leave. I stole a glance of him before I stood up. The angles of his mouth were up a little again. I felt something that I was not supposed to feel. I didn't want him to see me as a confused girl. I really couldn't see him now. I was heading to the door when heard his voice again. 

"So there was a secret?" 

His voice was higher when he spoke English, almost child-like. There was a smile in his words now. And my anger dissolved. 

"You really want to know?" I looked at him over the shoulder. "I re-watch your programs before I go to the ice." His face was hard to read. He didn't expect this? What did he want to know? 

And then I left. Smiling. Could he possibly believe that? 

***

Why the change of heart though? He seemed perfectly fine without me. I am already stressed out. I don't have energy to deal with him.

I chuckled. "Deal with him." As if there were much of him lately. He got this idea of me having a secret, that's all. Not a big deal.

I looked at the rink, my home rink in the Cricket Club. He was gliding on the ice. Smoothly. Quietly. Royally, yes, somebody could call his skating royal. I wondered why ice didn't melt or crack underneath him.

Stop it!

I've been training for two and a half months here, focusing on a variety new and old things, trying to hold onto my vision of my new programs. The responsility laid mostly on my shoulders, but I knew there would be talks about me in any case. I didn't care. I wanted to evolve.

I stepped onto the ice, skated one full circle to catch the feeling. My thighs were still sore after yesterday's session in the gym. It was a good soreness. It meant it was not in vain. It was September, competions were dangerously near. I didn't want to fear them, I wanted to embrace them. It's been too long.

But my jumps were off today. Fall. Underrotation. Sloppy landing. Fall. I clenched my fists. Triple salchow was my rescue. I breathed in slowly and started skating, just stroking.

"Looks like you missed your routine today."

Of course I knew who it was. I frowned and continued skating. I hoped he wouldn't go after me. But I was wrong. He was fast. He outrun me and turned now skating backwards. Facing me. Looking at me. 

"Why are you here, Yuzuru?" I wanted to sound strict maybe but sounded tired instead.

"On the ice? Training like you are." His facial expression was as nonchalant as ever possible.

"Here. Why are you here, next to me?"

Where could I find the courage?

Never I thought there would be time when I wished he was not here. I was hurt when he was distant with me. But now he acted weird. He acted goofy as if nothing happened with no explain. And I wanted to be as far from him as possible.

Back in April, I was happy. I found myself doing unimaginable things. Changing coach, changing attitude, changing life. And he was like a bonus that waited for me on the rink when I dreamed of Cricket back in Moscow. But when he came in July, my previous self-made image of what our training would look like shattered. Yuzuru Hanyu, 2-times Olympic champion, wasn't looking forward to see me at all. I found Jason instead. And Jason was not a replacement, he was my real friend and mutual support system. So I told myself not to be too upset about Yuzu. And I managed. Until he appeared like nothing happened.

He wasn't very quick to answer either.

"It's just your joke was funny yesterday, but I still want to know." He was smiling. Like a briber. 

"You saw yourself I am a mess today. And was a mess the day before yesterday. Even when I try really hard I fall."

I couldn't help but to look at him. I've been avoiding him for too long. I saw that his hair has grown a lot, but I could see how it almost covered his eyes now, and how strange it looked around his ears. He has changed a lot since Sochi if you compare two pictures, but he looks so young now, so skinny and playful. His eyes are still deep, his cheeks flushed, fingers long and graceful. I did not want to notice, but he was in front of me. I did not want to, but couldn't take my eyes off him.

"You can struggle, but not during the competitions." His voice was soothing.

Stop it!

"Oh no, it's where the real struggle begins." I was going to consider asking but, "Why are you interested so suddenly? Is it Autumn Classic you are so nervous about?" I really wanted to know.

He skated slower, slower enough for us to close the distance just a little. He looked in the direction of his skates like a little kid being caught. He looked... cute.

For God's sake, Evgenia, stop it!

He looked troubled and it was not Yuzuru Hanyu we needed to be strong. Who if not he?

"Don't worry." Did my voice tremble? "You are healthy and you will be fine. Your jumps are perfect." Did my voice sound warm? "And your programs are great."

He raised his head and smiled. And I wanted to disappear.

"It is harder when so many people are sure it is going to be fine. Am I the one who doesn't know it?"

We had a conversation. He shared with me. And it was deliberating. And self-destructive. 

"You can always watch Helsinki and calm down." I couldn't help but smile. That was magical. For him. And even for me.

"Oh, I should re-watch your performance too."

"Be careful, that flutz can be contagious." I cringed. But he laughed and his eyes became black lines and his teeth were shining white.

"You are too hard on yourself, Zhenya. And I saw you jumping Lutz just yesterday, it was great!" He praised me. And it felt so comforting. "Relax and enjoy your story and you will fly."

"Don't be too hard on yourself too, Yuzu." I didn't realize how much I missed him until now.

***

So it was tomorrow. Men in the morning, ladies in the evening. I was scared but excited in the same time. I missed competitions. I missed that drive. When nervousness collides with adrenaline and if you're strong enough, something great can be born. And I prayed. I needed a redemption.

Brian told me to not exhaust myself before important events. He told me that a long stable career is our goal. That I don't need to break myself, that all these competitions are not Olympics. That we have our goals. But lying alone at night before the spotlight, it felt different. I didn't want to break, but I wanted to show the world that I am not some trash they can get rid of. That I am here to stay. And I can perform and I can jump. I believe Yuzuru felt this way too. He knew exactly how the desire to win felt like.

I grabbed my phone and checked messages. And then I thought that it's not going to be any worse if I...

"Sleeping?" The message is sent.

I sighed but chose not to think about it.

"I can't." He replied quickly. I looked at the screen this time thinking what should I text next.

"You know you are going to be fine, right?"

It was lame, wasn't it? And then I added, "If not, I can invite you to my loser party."

In less than a minute, "If you can joke you too are going to be fine. Or you can watch my 2012 worlds and laugh again, maybe it will help."

I chuckled and then laughed, and texted again, "No really, go to sleep already."

"Good night, Zhenya."

Why such small things make my heart sting? It is him, and his aura, and him texting and saying my name. I am strong, so why am I so weak and pathetic when he is around?

***

I see him smiling like he owns the world. The new round golden piece of metal is on his chest. He smiles like it's not a rather small competition but something very important. There are no unimportant events for him. I look at him and want to be on the same spot where he is. I also want to win.

***

"Did you watch it?" he sent me the message and I needed a couple of seconds to get what he meant. My head is spinning.

"I watched your Olympics."

I touched the medal lightly, gently. I earned it. I put my whole heart in it and I earned it.

"Hope not my FS from Sochi" 

"Nope" 

"Congratulations" 

"Thank you" 

"Where are you?" 

I froze. My heart missed a beat. 

"Hotel" 

"Can you meet me on the 8th floor?" 

I burned. 

"Now?" 

"Yes"

How did this happen? All these denials and miles between us only to be spotted in the hotel? What is he thinking? What is so important that he cannot text? But I knew I was too curious and happy to think about it more than maybe five times. 

I put my medal in my bag and left my room. I lived on the 5th floor, he was on the 6th. It was dark in my room so the lights in the hallways blinded me for a second. I chose to use the stairs. My tired legs moved slowly but steady. Soon I was on the 8th floor looking around to spot him. He was further in the hallway waving. I came close and we walked till the end of the corridor and turned right where was a big window. He said nothing. When we stopped, he smiled. 

"Congratulations." 

"You too." 

"I missed you." He said it fast but then turned his head and watched the city behind the window. 

"I.." My throat became dry, "Then why?" 

He turned back at me. 

"Why what?" His eyes were the death of me. 

"Why all ignoring?" 

"These rumors were disrespectful mostly to you. I didn't want them to think that you chose Cricket because of me. Because you are a professional. You did it because of you and not anyone else. You need to concentrate on your career." His words were quiet but confident. 

"I somehow can understand your logic when we were on the show, but what about training?"

"As if people don't like to gossip!" 

"So what about now?"

He put his hands in the pockets, was silent for a minute. 

"It's the secret you possess."

I rolled my eyes. 

"Not again! " I suddenly felt almost betrayed. 

But then I heard him laughing and fixated my eyes on him. Did he blush or am I burning myself? 

"Not that. I couldn't stay away from you longer. I missed you." 

I stood silent. He shifted, and I shivered. Is he coming closer?

"I am no special. I have no secret." My feet seem very interesting right now and I choose to look at them. 

"You become bitter when you are upset. Why are you upset?" He stood very close and it felt suffocating. I was afraid. But he was right, I was upset. 

"Because it is you who chooses if I can talk to you or not, if it is appropriate or not. I couldn't look in your direction without your permission. And then all of the sudden you appear with your questions and once again I.." 

"You what?" 

"I can't tell you to go away. Just like back in February."

He sighed and raised his hands to put them on my shoulders. I tried to move but he stopped me. 

"I meant it."

Is he referring to that rushed kiss after Olympics? But how was I supposed to know that? It felt like a mistake for half a year. How many times I convinced myself it was nothing. That he probably regrets it. And now he dares to break that glass wall I built to protect myself from my dreams? 

I tried again to turn and run. I was happy before, now I wanted to run. From myself. From him. From my dreams of him. 

But he didn't let my shoulders go, he clung to them. 

I didn't want to shout so my worlds sounded like hissing. 

"You think it is just some funny game? Maybe to you it is, but I can't play it. You think I want to be upset when you ignore me or tell everybody that we are from different worlds? It may look funny but it's not, not for me! I don't want to miss you or feel nervous when you skate! I want to be my first priority! And I can't when you act like this. And I despise myself even more."

"And you think I want to spend hours thinking how can it work? You think I want to interrupt my training when you fall to check if you're ok? You think I want to lie the reporters left and right when they harass me with questions of you?"

I felt the tears threatening to appear. He hold me, stood close to me, saying all those infuriating things. Feeling weak is a torture that he mastered to serve me. 

Next second I said, my voice weak and pitiful, " Then don't." 

He breathed in soundly and wrapped his hands around me. 

"Stop."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last word can be interpreted in two ways, just choose who says it.  
> Or maybe I can do it myself later, I haven't decided yet.  
> I join the group named "English is not my mother tongue", so I sincerely apologize if there are mistakes.


	2. Chapter 2

Warm.

I tried not to give in, I wanted to struggle, I wanted to confront the warmth of him, the thought of him. Just the glimpse of a little hope was poisonous. I know what he can give me. Disappointment, low self-esteem, bad articles. I've had it all already. And it hurts. 

Because I was stupid. I saw him smiling on me, chatting with me, ignoring the fact that he did those things with everybody else. I had my eyes on him without even realizing at first. If he touched me I thought he did it intentionally. I didn't see that I also was just like everybody else. That he was the little sun with a hard Japanese accent around whom the skating world revolved. And my size was enough to revolve around him like a planet, but not enough to be his satellite. His heat was murderous.

So I tried to let go. I closed my eyes and hit him on his sides, I frantically turned my head left and right so the very thought of him could hop off.

"I said stop!" Did he raise his voice?

Maybe for a stranger practically nothing horrible happened. Two people had a little of a chat, a little of an argument and then a boy hugged a girl. But to me it was a tragedy. And I felt how tears threatened me. What was wrong with me?

"Let me go!" At least my words were steady enough. Weren't they?

"I can't." He whispered in my ear. And I hated it.

"Somebody can recognize the incomparable Yuzuru Hanyu, let go of me." And I shifted in his arms again. He just wrapped them tighter around me. I felt every inch of his arms. And I hated it.

"You sound bitter and upset again, can you just stand still for a minute?" I wasn't sure, but his face was buried in my hair and I felt him smiling. I can't see what he finds so funny. Maybe that I have almost no control of myself when it is about him? What was so special about him anyway?

Oh let's not go there, Zhenya.

So I decided to do what seemed like a cheaper way. To steal that minute and then go. No turning back. No single glance.

He recognized that I ended my struggle. He sighed and relaxed. We were just standing somewhere in the dim light of the hallway breathing quietly. He shared his warmth. I shared my fear.

"Don't you trust me?" He paused, then added, "Even a little?" 

I bit my lip and tried not to sob. I was bigger than this, right? 

My head was foreign to me when I shook it. 

"No?" He sounded frightened. Was he? "Why, Zhenya?" 

My plan was to spend a minute in silence and run. 

"I needed you." Blast my tongue. 

He took a step back not removing his arms from my shoulders. He bent his head so he could see my face. Or kill me with his eyes. Whatever. 

"Am I far away now?" I suddenly saw a little red pimple on his left cheek and this discovery cheered me up. 

You are hysterical, stop it. 

But I couldn't help but chuckle. He frowned. 

"What's wrong? You don't look well." 

"I'm great! What else can I be when you are so not far away from me." It was bad. But I needed it. I needed to feel reckless. "It's easier to be close when everything is medals and flowers."

"You can be angry and you very well are right now." What a precise remark. "I want to know why." 

"You know why." 

I was back in February, back in March, back in April, and May, and so on. I remember all these words, little things. Was it all inconvenient to him? Or way back in November. 

"Remember what you told me when I visited you in the hospital in Osaka? Besides worrying about the stupid rumors?" 

His face is funny when he cringes. Like a baby smelling something nasty. 

"I... You know I didn't mean it. Besides, I didn't know that you..." it was a sound of an escaping breath. "That your foot was too..."

How is it that Yuzuru can be a combination of multiple different Yuzurus in one slender him? When he changed his demeanor it felt like a punch in the stomach. He went from fierce to childish in a second. And now he went from demanding to a little Yuzu who broke something. 

"How am I supposed to know what you mean and what you don't?" Is it just me or I've already said something similar earlier tonight. 

"Listen. I see you are mad at me. I only partly understand why. You want to run." I prayed not to change my facial expression. "And I want to say something to you. Not something, many things. You won't let me so I will start with this. I miss you. And I am sorry. And congratulations again, you did a great job." He sounded strange. Like a dessert served with the ketchup. But if you remove the ketchup it's still a dessert, right? 

He looked at me. I remembered the weight of the gold medal on my neck a couple of hours ago and decided to hold onto that memory instead of others. I felt small and confused while I should be happy. I had every right to be happy and satisfied with myself hadn't I? I concentrated on the moment of announcing my results. First place.

It was the moment that mattered. 

"Thank you." 

"That's it?" 

"I need time." I needed you. Badly. And I hated it. 

***

Once I was secured in my room I knew one thing. That I was a dramatic person. And that he doesn't let me think straight when I am around him. In his arms. 

I laid down in bed and the soreness of my body hit me. I had to think all this through. To decide what should I say or do. To be rational. 

That part was funny. Like going to meet him at night in a hotel hallway was rational. Like being utterly upset over his absence was the most rational thing. 

Well, compromise. More rational sounds doable. 

We had one girl who felt left and forgotten and a boy who suddenly decided that he had some interest in a girl. Minus a couple of conversations, a couple hugs and a k-i-s-s that cannot be remembered. Minus all that and you get "suddenly decided". He turned the mode "I know better than to know you" on but then said "I meant it". That was the situation. Plus his eyes, his hair, his cheeks, his arms and everything. I smiled. He made it so difficult. 

I had to go to the shower. My every limb weighted a ton. Plus a kilo of confusion. 

I imagined I was a weight-lifter when I was standing up groaning. 

In the bathroom I examined myself in the mirror. 

I was older. Not pale after a hot summer in Toronto. I got used to bags under my eyes, to my nose, to my not full lips. I loved pictures where I looked confident. Now I looked like an 18 year old girl who didn't sleep enough. Or who had a fight and lost. 

Did I lose? 

I showered. People said my legs are too thin, my chest is too wide, my waist non-existent. 

Does he see me that way too? 

Stop it. 

Three minutes later soft bed and fresh sheets consumed my thoughts and consciousness. 

***

In reality Yuzuru Hanyu was a very small part of my life. I live a simple life in Toronto which is mostly around skating. And squirrels. And ladybugs. I have my mom, Jason, Gabby, Brian, Tracy and David. And they are more than enough. I am not a sociopathic type, I like exploring new places and meet new people. I turned the page of my life and drew mostly smiles, positivity and healthy food on the new one. I have a lot to learn. Not only skating-wise. I have to learn to speak english better, to take care of myself, to understand people better, to live fully. I have to know myself better to be a better performer, know my body better to be a better athlete. My new credo is "To be a better version of myself". 

And Yuzuru Hanyu with a crown and a dark cloud above his head had only a small corner on that page. 

That was before his questions and after my escape from him. So the life went on. 

Most of the times he is gloomy and concentrated. He arrives at Cricket, changes clothes, puts on his skates, trains, talks to Brian and Tracy and goes. I don't think many people can brag they know where he goes and what he does when he is outside the Cricket Club. Well, I was not that lucky person. I used to see him in competitions only, mostly happy and goofy. But here was the regular Yuzuru Hanyu. 

Does he ever have fun? 

Before he arrived here in July, Jason and I thought that we could explore Toronto with him. That he could teach Jason Japanese and vice versa. I wanted my friend back after that mess of the show. 

So when we looked at him when he actually arrived, we dropped the idea. He was polite. He was friendly. And he avoided me. Did I have a leprosy or something?

Well, what he had were two golden medals and pride of Japan on his shoulders. And I respected that. I tried to start a small talk a couple of times and then dropped it. He couldn't complain that I annoy or distract him. I spent my time mostly with Jason and Gabby anyway. So when he started to ask me about my "secret" and then that post-victory conversation happened I felt confused. 

We both returned to Cricket and everything seemed back to normal. 

Never thought I'd feel relieved. 

***

"Evgenia, come here," called me Brian. 

I had a great day. 

"You are doing great lately. Especially today." These words were honey to my ears. I grinned a little because I really did great. "I think our plan works. Nothing hurts, how are you feeling?" 

"Great. I feel strong." I smiled. 

"I'm glad." Brian looked like a proud parent, the picture was very touching. "I think you should concentrate on your back. You did your programs really well today, so you can go to the gym now. Okay?" 

I nodded. 

He tapped me on the shoulder and I headed to put my skates off. My first grand prix event is next week so a good practice is refreshing. 

I even started to sing some song I heard on the radio. With my skates packed I was ready to go to the gym. Energy felt like a hot liquid in my veins. 

I was about to open to door that led to the gym when I heard steps behind me. I don't know why I turned to check who it was because my initial intention was to ignore it. 

"Hi." 

"Hi." 

In his black suit being a trade mark, with a small orange towel on his shoulders, I could spot tiny droplets of sweat on his neck, on his forehead. I did not see him today, but seems like he was working hard. 

I thought that our silence was pretty enough to go. But when I opened the door of the gym and made some steps forward I didn't hear the door close. He was going right behind me. 

I closed my eyes for a second. So what? Like I care. 

"It was impressive."

His breathing was deep, his voice was strange. I turned to face him again. 

"What?" I was sincerely curious. I didn't see him on the ice. 

"Your skating of course." He rubbed his neck with a towel and tossed it on a seat of a trainer. He noticed the silent question in my eyes and added, "I was on the couch behind the glass resting." 

I nodded. 

I wanted to go to my trainer but stayed. Maybe he has something else to say. Maybe his damp hair was an interesting sight. But most likely I'm delusional. 

But he indeed had something to say. 

"You doing well?" 

"Yeah." The answer flew with the speed of a bullet. I felt awkward I couldn't help it. 

I couldn't decide if I wanted to be upset with him or to help or encourage him if he needed it. But it was such a great day to be a better person. 

"And you?" And I really wanted to know. He was more like a ghost to me lately. 

"Not so sure yet. My quads are not stable."

"Does your foot hurt?"

"No."

I sighed in relief. His eyes were penetrating.

"So if you really had a secret now is when I'd have appreciated it." And he laughed and it was creepy. 

"You still have time, you have what, two weeks until Moscow?" 

"And you leave in one." 

My palms got sweaty. And they almost never do that. 

"You are so nervous that you try to talk to me?" 

I tried to be civil but a hint of bitterness was there again. But it was a fair remark. His last interest in me was around a competition too. 

"Let's watch videos of our programs together!" 

After that passionate statement there was a silence. A thick silence. Like he had been holding this wish in for weeks. 

Maybe my face showed my astonishment too well. Because he chuckled. Me too. And then we laughed. 

It was the strangest thing ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your reaction really encouraged me to try and continue this small work. I was beyond grateful to read your responses. I personally don't know how I feel about second part, more insecure maybe. But still hope you had a good time reading it.


	3. Chapter 3

So strange that I doubted he was serious. But again, his face was the mixture of confusion, squeezed lips and... blush? It must have been the wind from the open window, it's just cold. 

There is no way I can understand this man. He never makes things easier.

"Why?" I'm feeling a need to ask. Because I know I shouldn't trust myself when it comes to him. Sad, but true.

He is uncomfortable too, I can see it in his eyes. And then, as a confirmation:

"That staff about secret isn't going to work, ain't it?" And he scratches his hair closing one eye.

I make a face in return and shake my head no.

"Look, just choose a couple of videos." 

"You mean, our videos for real?" I cringe at the idea. 

"Why don't you like rewatching your programs?" He crossed his arms on his chest. 

"I just don't." The truth, and fears, they are too deep. No need to bring them on the surface. 

"It will make you stronger." And for a blink of the moment I thought his hand twitched. In my direction. 

His words were a balm to my soul. Because all my dreams and efforts were to be exactly what he suggested. To be stronger. 

"I'll try." 

Then a small smile appeared on his face, and then he disappeared. I was in a gym alone. It was time to work.

***

Why? If I try to think about his words, I don't know why he needs all this re-watch business. And if I try to think more, I benefit from it. Because everybody knows - me and girls I trained with in Moscow for sure - that Yuzuru Hanyu scrutinizes his programs in a regular basis. That he scrutinizes everything that concerns his skating. He has already watches all his performances hundreds of times! Why now? Why with me? It is the question I dread to ask myself. 

I was standing near the exit of the club waiting for my mom. Autumn leaves us with winds and periodical rain. I glanced up to see the sun surrounded by grey clouds. I screw up my eyes but didn't look away. Days have become shorter and I wanted to witness the sun while I still could. 

The beep brought me back on Earth. My mother was smiling at me through me window of the car. I smiled back, flung my back on the backseat and jumped onto the front one. 

"How was your day?" She asked driving a car towards the exit of the parking.

"Fine, Brian even told me I did great today. I love this bell of his." I smiled. 

"I'm so glad." I hope you are, mum. 

I turned tee volume of the radio up and drove home. We live not far away from the rink so the logistics is easier. Less than in ten minutes I open the door of our apartment. I've eaten already, so I grab my onigiri pillow, hug it and go to my room. 

He asked me to think about videos. His career is longer, I have a space to choose. He had competitions he ended with records, with traumas, with tears both of pain or joy. He's had it all, a marvelous career. And he has no intention to stop it. 

I sighed. I remember how I waited for his turn to skate when I was younger. How nervous I was before his every jump, how I closed my eyes before his take offs. And how my nose was glued to the screen during his step sequences. And I remember how the crowd reacted. Later I remember this feeling watching him live. Surely nobody forgets the feeling watching him once. He clearly had this power over me, over younger skaters. Over coaches and judges. When he was in the center of the rink, he had the power to hold everyone's breath, everyone's gasp. Nobody wanted to resist. 

We all wanted to be like him. Jump like him, skate like him, feel the music like him. He inspired us. He still inspires us and will do it. 

And I remember the times when I could say it. Without fear. 

I wonder how would it have felt now. To say that Yuzuru Hanyu is my skating hero. To be one of the hundreds of skaters who say that. 

But I can't. 

I blink and realize that I search for that special day, that special performance. I haven't watched it for a while. I click the play button. Try not to breath. 

In a minute I hear my mom entering. She comes closer. 

"I thought I heard the familiar music." She leans closer. "So it really is it." 

My emotion mix contains perseverance to watch it till the end and embarrassment. 

"Don't you have enough of view during your practices?" She smiles on me. It is comforting but awkward. 

"It is not that." I try not to smile. Meanwhile he jumps his axel. 

"That year's worlds was amazing." She sat next to me on my bed and kept on watching him with me. "I'm his fan too, you know."

I chuckled. 

"How come you never asked me for an autograph?" He jumps triple Lutz, the audience is louder than the music. 

She hugs me. The truth is she almost never asked me about him. What kind of friendship we had, what kind of misunderstanding we have. She treats me like a grown-up. Maybe she thought that extra pressure from her was unnecessary, seeing me surrounded by this pressure in all fronts. Maybe she waited for me to talk. 

"So what is it you are doing, Zhenya?" 

To say that I have a homework from Yuzu is a lame thing to answer. But how else should I call it? 

"I inspire myself." 

I am not ready to talk. 

No, there is nothing to talk about. 

***

"Why do you like winning?" 

He might consider this question strange but I really want to hear his answer. 

As I expected, he found the question confusing. It was funny to observe the metamorphosis of his face. He squeezed his lips and pulled them forward at the same time. Like a child. 

"I think everybody likes to win." 

I shook my head at his answer. 

"Yes, but that's not what I mean." I paused. "When you win you look different, I felt it when I watched your performances yesterday." I steal a glance of him. "Looked like a rebirth to me." 

He wasn't in a hurry to talk. But when he did, he looked serious. 

"When I win I feel free and satisfied. My life is a constant counting and calculations. And hope of thousands of people. It changed me. I always was hungry for wins, but now I feel different. How to say it..." He moved his left hand to his lips. "I always carry this weight with me. Expectations. Their love, admiration. I appreciate every person who believes in me. And even money thay pay to see me."

He paused again. We sat on the bench in the gym class, his thigh next to mine. He tried to choose his words carefully, I felt that. His words said outloud about this immaculate pressure hit me. My hands clung to the edge of the bench. 

Not that I don't feel the pressure too, especially recently. But his burden is hard to endure. 

"So, when I win, it's like all my calculations were right. I feel like this weight leaves me. Even if it is not for a long time. It feels light."

His voice was deep, low and sincere. I didn't what him to stop speaking.

"And what about you, Evgenia?"

His eyes are so much bigger when his face is relaxed. There are little white dots on the black abyss of his eyes.

"I felt how much I love winning when I lost." I laughed nervously. He frowned. "Now when I think about it, the pre-olympic season was like a dream. I saw it but couldn't really feel it. I was happy when I won, but it felt like I observed it through a fog. I was told what I had to do. I tried so hard that when I got it I felt numb."

Once again I looked at him and saw these white dots dancing in his eyes.

"Does it make any sense to you?"

Is it my imagination or his thigh feels closer? 

"It does."

His answer was soft and warm. Reassuring. Maybe he knew what I was about to say. 

"I'm not sure if I can win again." 

This confession broke invisible wall. I felt my tears coming through and his warm hand wrapping me in a hug. 

"Isn't winning a drug or something?" I asked him burying my head on his shoulder and trying to conceal my tears. 

He didn't answer. 

He smells like spring. Japanese spring. It soothes me. 

"Do you want to watch my worst performance ever?" I wait one heartbeat, raise my head from his shoulder and answer. 

"Which one?" 

He laughs. 

"You are cruel."

"No, seriously?" I laugh in return. 

"World team trophy one." 

"Everybody forgave you for that hair of yours and purple pants." 

I like it when he smiles and his eyes disappear. 

Maybe I shouldn't but I do. 

We sit in silence for a while. It doesn't even bother me. We laughed our fears off, silence is comforting. Until he decided to ruin it. 

"We used to be good friends." 

I could swear I heard the sound of the glass breaking. 

"I am not the one who forgot it." I wanted to sound angry. But sounded pathetic I suppose. 

Run. You can't deal with him, run. 

He caught my wrist when I started to get up. 

"Don't run." 

"I.. I don't know to be an additional weight, even if it is a couple if grams." 

He got up, lifting me with him. 

"Where all this anger comes from, Zhenya? You know I had to protect you back then!" 

"You made it worse." I free my hand.

"I didn't even say your name!" He shouts, cheeks pink. 

"Like nobody could guess that rumors about me specifically made you hurry and deny and worry. There were many rumors, many shipping before, but it was me who was impossible deal with!" I am shouting, too. 

"I told you before, they made it sound like you decide to come to Toronto for me!" 

"And you made it sound like it disgusts you. You made it look like it." Tears, again. "You never talked to me until this stupid secret thing came to your head!" 

"You know it's not true." He whispers pulling me closer to him. 

Hollow. That's how I felt after this outburst. His whisper after his shouting sounds strange. 

"How do I know? It's always you who decides things." 

He hugs me. Tight. Warm. 

"I'm sorry."

Warmer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for the delay, but the language barrier hit me. And the difficult week. And the lack of ideas because initially I wasn't ready to write several chapters. I tried to pull myself together. If it all goes to the wrong direction feel free to say that:)  
> Also, if the writing seems a bit jumpy, it's not the language, I prefer to call it an intentional writing style:D (no)


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